


Any Other Morning or: Romney Hall Pall Mall

by Djcwrites



Category: Bridgerton (TV), Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Bridgertons Being Bridgertons, Domestic Bliss, F/M, Oral Sex, Pall-Mall, Sibling Rivalry, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-14 00:08:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29410284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djcwrites/pseuds/Djcwrites
Summary: The annual Romney Hall Pall Mall game (that is, the game held for those unfortunate Bridgertons who have been barred from the Viscount's yearly game) is underway. Let mirth and competition abound
Relationships: Eloise Bridgerton/Phillip Crane
Comments: 6
Kudos: 63





	1. Sunrise

**Author's Note:**

> Rated E for later chapters

This particular morning in Gloucestershire was sunnier than usual and Eloise drew back her curtains with a smile. The sun had just barely begun to crest over the horizon, but Eloise could tell that the clouds would remain at bay for the duration of the day’s activities.

“Phillip,” she said in a forceful whisper, turning around and walking back towards the bed in which her husband slept “Phillip, wake up!”

Phillip stirred slightly but did not pay any acknowledgment to his wife’s words. This situation was a rare occurrence. More often than not, it was Phillip who was awake at dawn, off to work in his greenhouse, but today was no ordinary day. Today was the annual Romney Hall Pall Mall game. 

The Romney Hall Pall Mall game had become an annual event after Eloise caught wind of the fact that Anthony held an annual Pall Mall game at Aubrey Hall to which Eloise was not, and never would be invited. Colin and Penelope had been visiting when Penelope had let it slip that they would be heading to Kent in a few weeks. 

“Sorry El,” Colin had said, with a smirk that indicated his decided lack of sorrow. “it’s a tradition. Same players every year.” 

So, Eloise took it upon herself to extend a yearly invitation to her other shunned siblings–Benedict, Francesca, Gregory, and Hyacinth–to a friendly game of Pall Mall at Romney Hall. Although, friendly might not be the best word for it. Within about 2 years, the game that was played at Romney Hall could only be identified by its implementation of balls and mallets and the strict policy of taking turns, oldest to youngest. The aim of getting one’s ball through a certain number of wickets had been all but foregone within 3 years. Yes, they started every game with the intent to get balls through wickets, but the more desirable aim was to have one’s ball be the last on dry land and to knock the competition’s balls into the lake. On the 4th anniversary of the event, Phillip had grown quite weary of replacing the balls for the Pall Mall set and even wearier of wading into the lake to retrieve them. So he felt the need to implement the rule that anyone who sank a ball out of a mallet’s reach of the shoreline would automatically forfeit, thus bringing some strategy back into the game. He hadn’t quite expected the confirmation of this new rule to carry the same weight as the signing of the Magna Carta, but all participants ended up agreeing to its implementation.

Eloise put her hand on Phillip’s shoulder and gently shook him causing him to finally turn towards her with a yawn. Eloise had crawled onto the bed in order to shake him from the other side and was currently on all fours. 

“You know,” Phillip said, with an easy smile that made Eloise’s heart jump, “I think you would do well to get some of that extra energy out before you compete today, it might help you focus,” Phillip propped himself up on his side and put his hand on her cheek “especially if you’re going to wake me up looking so eager.”

Eloise sat back on her knees, she took her husband’s hand in hers and gave him a kiss on the palm, but just as Phillip started to shift towards her, she turned around and hopped off the bed.

“Any other morning, my dear,” she said, walking towards her dressing room “but I must make haste. I want to get to breakfast before Hyacinth. I need to make sure she and Gareth aren’t conspiring.” 

Phillip fell onto his back in defeat. “Not to be contrary, my dear,” he said smiling. Being contrary was exactly what he was going to do, “but, what makes you think that Hyacinth and Gareth will be conspiring at the breakfast table rather than in the room that they’ve been sharing for the past several hours?”

Eloise stuck her head through the door and looked at him, her nose crinkled with an expression of feigned annoyance.

“Besides,” Phillip said, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and donning his dressing-gown, “with Francesca here, I don’t think you’ll have to worry about the other competitors.”

Phillip walked into Eloise’s dressing room where she was sitting at her vanity in anticipation of her lady’s maid. He bent down and put his arms over her shoulders in a relaxed embrace. He lightly kissed the top of her head, taking in her scent, and rested his chin upon her. He looked in the mirror at the reflection of the both of them and reveled in the luck he must have to have ended up here, with this woman. 

Eloise put her hand over Phillip’s “Firstly, Hyacinth has a conspiratorial disposition, she will conspire at any time when left to her own devices. Second...” Eloise said, looking up at him, “is why you will be tasked with keeping Michael quiet.”

Francesca was not able to attend the game every year due to the distance from Kilmartin in Scotland and Romney Hall in Gloucestershire, but when she did, she won. Whether her dominance could be attributed to her natural skill with a mallet or her husband Michael’s rabid cheering from the sidelines, was a topic of debate.

Phillip let out a small laugh and bent down, touching his lips to hers, “Now look who’s conspiring.”

Eloise straightened her posture superciliously, “I am the hostess, I can conspire when I please.”

Phillip placed one more kiss atop her head and turned to walk towards his own dressing room. “Well, I suppose I should join you then, I would hate for anybody to think me a cad for snubbing the hostess at breakfast”

“Oh, but I do love it when you act a cad,” Eloise said with a hint of flirtation.

Phillip turned around and gave her one more parting kiss. “ _Any other morning my dear_ ,” he said before resuming his trek across the room.

* * *

Phillip and Eloise entered the breakfast room to find Lucy (Gregory's wife) buttering a piece of toast. 

“Good morning Lady Lucinda,” Phillip said with a respectful nod. Lucy continued buttering her toast. 

“Phillip, I have told you on numerous occasions that if you insist that I call you Phillip, that you must also dispense with the formalities and call me Lucy. I have half a mind to no longer respond to ‘Lady Lucinda’.” Lucy said this with a remarkably flat affect and had switched from spreading butter to jam by the end of her statement

Phillip smiled, he liked Lucy, she was smart, discerning, and had a sharp sense of humor. Both Eloise and Phillip agreed that she was exactly what Gregory needed. “Of course,” he said with a cough, signaling his intent to start over, “Good morning, Lucy.” 

Lucy finally looked up from her toast, genuinely acting as if she was just noticing their presence “Oh! Good morning Phillip! Good morning Eloise!”

“Good morning Lucy,” Eloise said with a smile, she had planned to attempt aloofness this morning but Lucy’s frank congeniality was hard to spurn. “Where might my dear brother be?” she asked, after scanning the room and not seeing Gregory.

“I’m afraid my dear husband is still sleeping,” Lucy said, beginning to cut into her bacon. “You know, when we were first married, he gave me the impression that he shared my passion for breakfast, but I’m starting to think that was a ruse to ingratiate himself with me.”

Eloise chuckled and said, “Having known Gregory for his whole life, I can assure you that he does indeed have a passion for breakfast, but it is only superseded by his passion for sleep.”

Lucy took a bite of her bacon and looked at the ceiling thoughtfully as she chewed, “I suppose you’re right. But it will be his loss when he is struck down by hunger during Pall-Mall.” 

“Oh hunger is the last thing he needs to worry about striking him,” a voice from the doorway said. It was Hyacinth and she was wearing that waggish grin that she was all too well known for. 

“I fear she might intend to strike your husband with a mallet,” Eloise said to Lucy as she sat down beside her. “A threat I myself have been known to make in fits of impulsivity,” she leaned closer to Lucy, but kept her eyes on Hyacinth “but the calmness of her countenance as she says it is quite uncanny.”

Lucy looked up at Hyacinth, “Do what you must,” she said waving her hand dismissively “all I ask is that I am not widowed by the end of the day.”

Hyacinth’s grin widened. She and Lucy’s relationship had finally fallen into place after the chaos surrounding Lucy and Gregory’s nuptials, something that every other member of the family welcomed. Nobody knew for how long they could guarantee Lucy’s bodily safety before Hyacinth forgave her.

“Not to worry Lucy,” Hyacinth said placing some coddled eggs on a plate “I would never do anything to permanently harm Gregory”

“I can think of at least three distinct scars that would say otherwise,” Eloise chimed in, “Let’s see there was the incident with the candlestick, one involving a book of Shakespeare’s complete works, and one involving a butter knife. Which is by no means an exhaustive list.”

As Eloise finished her sentence, Francesca entered the room, nodded her greetings to everyone, and walked towards the table of serving dishes. 

“Was it a butter knife?” Francesca said, plating some salted cod. “I seem to remember something involving a letter opener.”

“No, no,” Eloise said shaking her head, “the letter opener was Daphne and Colin.”

“Ah, yes,” Francesca agreed “mama kept them hidden away after that”

Lucy looked at her plate and shook her head, “Violet Bridgerton should be eligible for sainthood” an opinion to which everybody in the room assented. 

“Well,” Phillip said, “I suppose it’s safe for me to sit down now, seeing as no other ladies could possibly enter the room.

“Unless one of us should decide to stand up,” Hyacinth added.

Phillip replied, “I suppose, but I think you all are kind enough to let me enjoy at least some of my eggs before that time comes.”

“Don’t worry Phillip,” Francesca said, “We shall wait until you are finished, but then get up in rounds once our wretched husbands arrive in order to punish them for being tardy.”

Eloise smiled as she saw the flash of mischief run across Francesca’s face. The world outside of the Bridgerton family saw a demure, composed lady of society (likely why she was named the incomparable of her first season). In reality, she could be just as mischievous as the rest of her siblings (if not more so).

“Well I would hate to miss that,” Phillip said, teasing “perhaps I shall vacate the room and observe through the window before I go place the wickets.”

Eloise felt her smile grow. Watching Phillip become so much more at ease with himself over the years had been such a joy for her. Nothing about him really changed, and she never would have wanted it to. He was still more reserved and pensive than most and he certainly wasn’t particularly gregarious around strangers, but he was no longer so hesitant to show his good humor and mirth around others. No longer afraid to show the pieces of himself that he had to hide for so long. Phillip felt safe and loved among her family, and that made Eloise’s heart feel so full that she thought it might burst.

“A splendid idea, Phillip,” Hyacinth said, “that will allow time for a neutral party to join you in placing the wickets”

“A neutral party?” Phillip asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Hyacinth asserted “so that we can ensure that you are not setting up the course for the benefit of your wife”

“And how would he manage that?” Eloise said, with a hint of indignation.

“How are we to know whether you have been practicing Eloise?” Hyacinth said, “Phillip could have set up a course for you with garden stakes, or whatever implements he has at his disposal and you could have been honing your craft.”

Eloise swallowed a bit of egg before she decided to respond “Hyacinth, I believe you overestimate both the amount of leisure time my husband and I have, as well as the lengths that Phillip would go to in order to aid me in winning a lawn game. Besides...” Eloise faced her palms toward the ceiling in a gesture of indifference. “Phillip is already the most neutral participant at present, as he does not compete himself. The only other spectators are Sophie, who has yet to arrive, and Michael, who could hardly be described as neutral.”

The line-up of the Pall-Mall Game had started off simply enough. For the inaugural game in the autumn of 1825, the line-up was as follows: Phillip with red, Francesca with orange, Benedict with yellow, Gregory as green, Eloise taking blue, Hyacinth taking purple, Sophie white, and Michael took black. The next year, Phillip conceded his spot to Hyacinth’s then-new husband Gareth, stating he had no qualms with doing so, as he believed the first game had aged him. In 1827, the black mallet went missing (mysteriously after Anthony and Kate visited) and Lucy joined the family, so Sophie (who had been looking for an out) insisted that Lucy take her place. Additionally, now malletless, Michael decided that he would rather spectate (by which he really meant cheer for Francesca with distracting fervor). 

Hyacinth crossed her arms “I’m willing to wait for Sophie.”

Phillip, ever the diplomat decided to cut in. “How about…” he said, looking first to his wife, then to his sisters-in-law, “we wait to put the wickets up until we’re ready to play? It doesn’t take that long to set up the pitch,” he looked directly at Hyacinth, “that way, you can make sure I do the job fairly.”

“I _suppose_ ,” Hyacinth said with exaggerated concession, “but only because you’re my favorite brother-in-law”

Phillip smirked, “Eloise, dear, do write that down for my epitaph when I pass on. ‘Sir Phillip Crane, 5th Baronet. Loving husband and father. Favorite brother-in-law to Lady Hyacinth St.Clair’,” he looked over at Eloise who was beaming with mirth. 

Hyacinth, never one to let the last word be anyone’s but her own smiled and retorted, “Oh, I’m sure my endorsement would go before the baronetcy.”

Phillip chuckled, “well, I think that I will take some air,” he got up and gave a bow of courtesy, “I do, after all, still want to witness the routine you’ve planned for the other gentlemen.”

Phillip exited the room actually running into all three of his brothers-in-law as they made their way to breakfast as a group. 

“Well,” Phillip said, “was there a note I might have missed?” gesturing to the three of them. 

“Not at all Phillip,” Michael said with his characteristic grin, “for I assure you, if invitations had been sent for this impromptu meeting, you would have been requested before Gregory”.

Gregory gave Michael a jocular elbow to the ribs and asked Phillip glibly “I trust our lovely wives were safe in your care?” 

“No marauders to note” Phillip replied.

“Are you off to set up the course for today?” Gareth added, adjusting his cuff.

“I was…” Phillip began, “but your wife doesn’t believe I can be trusted if left to my own devices, so I will set up when our entire party is present.”

Gareth shook his head in loving exasperation. 

“So I thought I might take a walk instead, perhaps check on things in the greenhouse,” Phillip stated.

“Well, don’t get too carried away,” Michael said, “I’d hate for you to get caught up in your plants and miss the whole game.”

Phillip laughed, “With the chaos that usually ensues? I doubt I could get caught up in anything.” 

The four men finished their salutations and Phillip walked outside. Luckily, the breakfast room had large windows on which the curtains were currently drawn. He was able to observe the hijinks from an unassuming distance. Though he did have to stifle a roar of laughter after the third time Gregory had put a piece of bacon near his mouth only to be unable to bite it due to the ladies’ expertly timed departures.


	2. High-Noon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the game begins. Seven start, but who will remain?

“Interesting,” Hyacinth said, looking down to observe Phillip driving the third wicket into the ground, her hand placed thoughtfully on her chin. 

“Will this be continuing for the remaining wickets?” Phillip said looking up and resting his forearms on his knees. 

“Hyacinth, the more you accost my husband the longer this will take”, Eloise shouted leaning on her mallet impatiently “and it is already noon!”

“I think we can wait a little bit longer,” Benedict said, reaching for his third sandwich from the picnic basket that the cook had prepared for them. 

“At least until you finish that sandwich,” Sophie said in a playfully nagging tone, “I believe it is the last one” she added, tipping the basket towards her to get a better look.

“You’re a Bridgerton, Benedict!” Hyacinth shouted back at the group that had, until that moment, been enjoying luncheon “Why aren’t you taking this as seriously as Gregory, Eloise, Francesca, and I?” 

“Old age has softened him!” Gregory shouted back, he was now next to Eloise testing the weight of his mallet. 

“I’ll show you who’s soft,” Benedict said, getting up and walking over to the cart that held the mallets and balls “Hyacinth! Let Phillip place the wickets so I can show you how seriously I take this game!” 

“So, all I have to do is call him old to get him to do what I want? Duly noted” Sophie said. 

“Fine!” Hyacinth said, “but if Eloise wins, I blame you!”

Within ten minutes, the stage was set. “Alright, brother! Age before beauty!” Gregory said, practicing his swing.

“Brave talk for someone within mallet distance” Benedict quipped back as he straightened his shot. And with a  _ THWACK  _ it began. Benedict’s ball traveled a respectable distance landing him within striking distance of the first wicket. Next went Eloise, who, in her eagerness, slightly overshot the first wicket by a few inches.

“Good shot!” Phillip shouted as Eloise reached the area where her ball landed. Eloise's face softened when she heard Phillip’s encouragement. It wasn’t a good shot, she was now at least 2 strokes behind, but looking over and seeing a smile on Phillip’s face made her feel better.

As Francesca stepped up to the starting line, Michael began whooping and hollering, “You show them Frannie!” and Francesca did show them, landing her ball not more than a foot in front of the first wicket.

“I swear, he’s put some sort of Pictish enchantment on her ball,” Gregory muttered to Lucy.

“What do you know about the Picts Gregory?” Francesca said over her shoulder as she confidently sauntered to her ball.

“Not much, aside from my experience with their descendants,” he said, tossing his head in Michael’s direction “and from that I can deduce that they were barbarous”

“SHHH!” Hyacinth said, trying to bring everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand “it’s Gareth’s turn!”

Gareth hit the ball, hard. So hard that it lifted off the ground, flew past the congregation at the first wicket, hit the ground with several bounces and then lightly, slowly, rolled into the water of the lake.

“Well that’s me in the water,” Gareth said with a shrug, walking to the shoreline to fish the ball out with his mallet. As he went to join the other spectators, he gave Hyacinth a subtle wink.

“Unbelievable Hyacinth!” Eloise shouted, “I saw that wink! You’ve spent the better half of the day slandering Phillip and implying treachery, only for you to have your husband throw the game in your favor!”

“What wink?” Hyacinth said, picture of innocence.

“I assure you, Eloise, I merely had something in my eye,” Gareth said, sitting on the blanket next to Sophie.

Eloise’s eyes narrowed, “Oh, I’m sure.”

Next up was Gregory, whose Pall Mall aim was only incrementally better than his pistol aim. His ball rolled wide and to the left leaving him to be the farthest from the first wicket. After Gregory went Hyacinth, who confidently landed her ball between Benedict’s and Francesca’s. Finally, it was Lucy’s turn. Much to her chagrin, she also overestimated the strength needed to put her ball in play and ended up a few feet to the right of Eloise.

The game continued in much the same way, with Francesca, Hyacinth, and Benedict in the lead respectively, Eloise rapidly regaining ground, and Lucy and Gregory holding up the rear. Unfortunately, when they were near the sixth wicket, Gregory attempted a heavy strike to regain ground and ended up knocking Lucy’s ball in the water, much to her vexation. As Lucy walked back from retrieving her ball from the shallows she whispered something to Hyacinth that, to the other players, sounded a lot like “ _ do your worst _ ” which was only confirmed by the impish gleam in Hyacinth’s eye after she heard it. Within two turns, Gregory’s ball was in the water by Hyacinth’s hand.

Finally, the players approached the last wicket. Francesca was in the lead still, with what looked to only be two more strokes before she won. She was followed closely by Hyacinth and Eloise, whose balls were right next to each other. Benedict had fallen back, purposefully it seemed so that he could be closer to the blanket on which Sophie was sitting.

It was Eloise’s turn, and she could think of no better move than to get her revenge on Hyacinth while cementing at least a second-place finish. 

“Hmm,” Eloise said with a self-satisfied grin, “It seems your ball has landed in a most unfortunate position, Hy.”

“I’m aware,” Hyacinth ground out. She had been grimacing since her ball had reached its particular locale.

“It sure would be a shame if I were to knock it out of place,” Eloise continued “after all, it is so close to my ball, and we are so dangerously close to the lake,” her grin grew even more.

“Eloise, don’t you dare!” Hyacinth said, with a growl 

“Dare what?” Eloise said, feigning ignorance as she lined up her shot.

Then, with a firm tap Eloise sent her ball several feet forward and sent Hyacinth’s several feet to the side to an incline that led to the lake. Hyacinth let out a grunt of frustration and Eloise beamed as they saw the purple ball break the tension of the water’s surface. However, the height of the corners of Eloise’s mouth showed an inverse relationship to Hyacinth’s as the ball continued to roll underwater until it was barely visible and just out of reach.

“Oh dear, Eloise” Hyacinth practically shouted with unconcealed glee as she ran towards the edge of the lake, “Oh dear, oh dear indeed!”

Hyacinth lazily reached out her mallet “It seems I can’t reach my ball!” she said, her voice dripping with mockery.

Eloise’s eyes narrowed, “Just because  _ you _ can’t reach it doesn’t render it unreachable!” she said, each word more clipped than the last, “Phillip! Benedict!” she called.

Unfortunately for Eloise, the largest, longest men in attendance could not retrieve the ball with the mallet. 

“Sorry El,” Benedict said with a shrug. Phillip at least seemed genuinely sorry and did everything he could aside from stepping into the water to retrieve the ball. 

Michael, Gregory, and Gareth had come to observe the scene.

“Tell me, Phillip,” Gregory said with interest, “are you trying so hard because you love your wife and want her to win, or because you fear what she may do to you if she loses due to a rule you came up with?”

Phillip, who was desperately reaching by balancing on one foot in order to elongate himself, returned to a normal standing position and set the head of the mallet on the dampened ground, “I’d say three-quarters out of love, one-quarter out of fear,” Eloise slapped him on the shoulder, but he just pulled her into his side and looked her in the eyes, “I really am sorry.”

At that Eloise’s expression began to soften, “Don’t be,” she said, “it’s a good rule and I agreed to it” she conceded, albeit begrudgingly. She wrapped her arm around Phillip's waist and joined him on the spectators' blanket. As she stewed for the remainder of the game, Phillip rubbed delicate loving circles on her back with his palm, and she couldn’t stay mad for long. Maybe she would practice for next year and try to learn from how many angles she could send Hyacinth’s ball into the lake.

In the end, the winner was Francesca. She had barely placed her ball through the last wicket when Michael grabbed her by the waist and spun her around in the air. Eloise looked on, conceding that if anyone else were to win, at least it was Francesca. 

As the ladies walked back to the house for tea, the gentlemen cleared the pitch, putting all the implements neatly on the cart, including the purple ball that Phillip had to take his boots off to fish out. When they were walking back, he saw Gregory slip Gareth and Michael what appeared to be several shillings. 

“A wager I wasn’t privy to?” Phillip said with curiosity “you three wound me for the second time today!”

“In all fairness Phillip,” Michael drawled while counting the coins in his hands “the wager was between Francesca and Eloise, and I knew you could not be counted on to bet against your wife,” he smiled at Phillip “and as a fellow doting husband, I thought it unfair to take your money from you.”

Phillip smiled, Michael was right, he could never bet against Eloise. He walked over to Gregory and gave him a pat on the back, “What’s your excuse?” he joked, as Gregory had clearly bet in favor of Eloise. 

Gregory smiled, “fear of what she might do to me if she found out that I bet against her.”

Phillip laughed, “Well, I think our fortunes may turn next year. By the look in her eyes, I think my wife will be spending all of her extra time this year incrementally testing the power of her swings.”


	3. Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Eloise gets her consolation prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had so much fun writing this chapter, I love these two so much it hurts.

Eloise spent the remainder of the day trying not to pout. She knew that her frustration was childish and asinine, but she couldn’t help it. One could only be beaten by her younger sisters so many times without starting to get a little bitter. She would admit, of course, that she had fun, she just would have had a lot more fun if she had won. She tried to salvage her dignity by inviting her brothers to shoot with her, which they promptly declined. Phillip, the dear that he was, offered to shoot with her, but they both knew that Eloise would not find the same pleasure in out-shooting her husband as she would out-shooting her brothers. Besides, Phillip was a good shot, whereas Benedict and Gregory were mediocre and abysmal, respectively.

As they were in their bed-chamber preparing for dinner, Phillip entered Eloise’s dressing room right after she dismissed her maid. Eloise was at her vanity putting on her jewelry, which she always preferred to do herself. Phillip saw her fumbling with the clasp on a necklace from the parure that he had gotten her some years back for their anniversary. Eloise sensed his presence.

“You know, this is my favorite necklace, but this clasp always gives me so much difficulty,” she said, sighing and bringing the necklace in front of her face so that she could examine the clasp’s mechanism.

“Can I tell you a secret?” Phillip said walking up behind her chair and bending so that he was at eye-level and putting his hands on her shoulders.

“Consider my interest piqued,” Eloise said flatly, keeping her attention on the necklace. 

“I knew that clasp would be difficult when I gave it to you,” he smiled devilishly.

Eloise's hands and jaw simultaneously dropped in mild irritation, she turned her neck to look at his face, “Did you do this to vex me?” she squinted.

Phillip let out a laugh, “No, I did it so that you might need me to do this,” his hands slid down her arms, taking the necklace gently from her grasp. He raised it back up to her neck and quickly fastened it with the benefit of his perspective. “So that I could do this” his hands returned her shoulders and his breath was warm against the back of her neck. Eloise couldn’t help but shiver when his lips gently touched the area just behind and below her ear.

“Phillip Crane,” she said softly, her breath catching in her throat, “you are incorrigible”

“High praise,” he said, moving his kisses down to her shoulder.

“Phillip…” she said, intending to finish her thought by telling him  _ “you must stop, we’re expected at dinner” _ , but his mouth on her skin was doing things to her that made etiquette seem paltry.

He lifted his head, resting his chin on her shoulder “You seem so disappointed today, I’ve been thinking how I might provide some consolation,” he said once more appreciating her features in the looking glass, “perhaps we could discuss it after dinner?” 

All Eloise could do was nod and follow him down to the drawing-room, he knew her too well. He knew how the anticipation would affect her, winding her tighter until she could finally get a release.

Eloise practically couldn’t sit still during dinner. Every time her eyes met Phillip’s he would bashfully look down at his food only to give her a knowing glance and a devilish smirk. She found herself trailing off mid-sentence and staring at his hands, becoming hypnotized at something as mundane as him holding a spoon. 

Eloise remembered when she was just a green girl watching Anthony and Kate or Simon and Daphne make eyes at each other from across the table. She remembered how silly and frankly annoying she had found it, especially because it often meant she wasn’t being listened to. She remembered complaining to her mother

“It’s ridiculous, and frankly embarrassing!” she would assert. It reached a point where Violet would not even look up from her embroidery to say things like “ _ oh you’ll feel differently when you’re older _ ”, she’d simply continue her stitches and nod occasionally to signal to Eloise that she was listening. “There is no man that could possibly turn me into such an unconscious fool!”

And Eloise really had felt that way, every dance she accepted with some eligible bachelor of the  _ ton _ during her numerous seasons, every sonnet some fool recited to her in her mother’s drawing-room, she found herself thinking “ _ what on earth could any man do to rob me of my faculties _ ”. As years went on, she found herself searching for it, though she would never admit it. She would search inside herself thinking that maybe someone would light an ember that would grow into a fire within her, but nothing did and she soon abandoned the thought. 

But then she met Phillip. At first, when she would write him letters, though she appreciated the easy companionship that they had fallen into, she never thought that he would transfix her. Even when she first met him and was caught off-guard by the handsome figure that he cut, she didn’t think for a second that he would fill every corner of her life so completely. It wasn’t until he first kissed her that night in the greenhouse all those years ago that she felt that ember begin to light within her. She didn’t even recognize what it was at first. After all, she didn’t make a habit of kissing strange men in greenhouses. But the feeling continued to grow until it became a flame. A flame that she reveled in and was sure could never be extinguished. 

She finally realized, no man on earth could  _ do _ something to rob her of her faculties, but Phillip robbed her of her faculties in everything that he  _ was _ . Strong, yet gentle; affable and sincere; so completely full of love, but never overbearing. He was simultaneously everything she was and everything she was missing. She knew that he was her missing piece and she was his and that there was no other man on earth for her. 

So, after dinner was finished and everyone retreated back to the drawing-room (Phillip and Eloise were not so high in the in-step as to have their guests separate by gender) and an unsuspecting amount of time had passed, Eloise excused herself. She claimed that the events of the day had left her quite weary, made her apologies, effusively stated her do-not-stop-the-merrymaking-on-my-accounts, and then made a hasty retreat to her bed-chamber.

Thankfully, Phillip had established the reputation of a doting husband among the other Bridgerton siblings (which, to be fair, he was) so nobody would assume anything indecorous when he excused himself within a quarter of an hour. Eloise opened the door to the bed-chamber and considered the practicality of commencing her toilette, assuming (with no lack of wanton glee) that whatever Phillip had planned for her would render any efforts towards a tidy appearance trivial. Finally, she decided to simply remove her jewelry and unpin her hair, letting it fall to her shoulders and down her back. She spent the remainder of her time waiting idly brushing her hair even though the excitement within her was building.

Phillip did his best not to stare at the clock on the mantle in the drawing-room and count the minutes until he could retire for the evening without making it blindly apparent to his guests that he planned on engaging in marital relations with his wife. He supposed that it hadn’t helped that him and Eloise had been nearly unable to keep their eyes off of each other throughout the meal. If they hadn’t had company, Phillip was quite sure Eloise’s heavy-lidded gaze and the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed would have led him to throw away any sense of propriety and take her right there on the dining room table. But alas, they did have guests. So here he was, in his drawing-room making idle chat and attempting to suppress any wicked thoughts that came into his head. Finally, after he watched the minute hand on the clock reach the fifteenth tick mark since Eloise had left, Phillip excused himself, trying not to read too much into the subtle nods offered to him by Gareth and Michael and trying harder still not to sprint up the stairs.

Eloise had nearly stopped brushing her hair and was about to move on to pacing about the room when she heard the heavy yet cautious footsteps that she had come to know so well approach the door. The knob turned and Phillip all but burst through the door, his tailcoat already draped across his arm and his cravat loosened. He tossed his coat aside after closing the door and closed the space between them in what seemed like a single step. 

Eloise looked up at him “You wished to discuss something with me?” she said with a patient, playful smile. All Phillip could do, all he wanted to do, was take her in his arms and press his lips to hers. 

Eloise had often found herself discerning the slight differences between Phillip’s kisses. There were his soft, tender kisses that he showed no reservation in using, anytime, anywhere, showering them on the crown of her head, her forehead, her nose, and her lips. There were his surprise kisses, that he would use to tease her and leave her speechless when she was pontificating on something or when he pulled her into corners, just because. There were numerous kinds of kisses that Phillip gave her, and she adored them all. But the kiss that he was giving her now was the kind that made her knees weak, the kind that could make every ounce of sense leave her body. 

This kiss was needy, it was passionate, and it was all-consuming. He parted her lips with his tongue, allowing a soft moan to escape her body. When they were newlyweds, such sounds would make her blush, but now they only made her smile, because she knew that they drove him mad with desire. They stayed there for a minute, each of their tongues exploring every inch of the other, but Phillip finally drew back. He held her face in his hands and smiled, his breath beginning to heave. 

“I did,” he said with a roguish grin. “I wanted to get your input as to how I can most sufficiently worship you“ He lowered his head once more, placing kisses along her collarbone between his words “Would that be an adequate consolation for the disappointments of the day, Lady Crane?” he looked up at her in reverence and smirked when he heard her breath hitch.

Eloise needed a moment to collect her thoughts. Even after years of marriage, whenever he uttered the words “Lady Crane” she felt every inch of her body set into vibration like the tines of a tuning fork. Add to that the term  _ worship _ and she was surprised there wasn’t a musical note emanating from her body.

“I think–” she swallowed, almost laughing at the irony of the statement, “I think that I would like to see how my most loyal adherent sees fit to worship me.”

And with that, Phillip began to make quick work of the buttons on her dress. He had shown himself to be quite a quick study after their first night together. No longer did he need to turn her around to loosen her garments, except for when he wanted to kiss that delightful spot at the bottom of her back. But tonight, he truly did want to worship her, and that meant that he never wanted her face to be more than a glance away. He trailed kisses down from her collarbone to the curve of her breast. He looked up with her and saw her eyes clouded with desire. 

“Do let me know if you have any suggestions,” he said with a grin.

Phillip decided that he wanted to continue from a more comfortable angle, so he straightened and gently walked Eloise to the side of their bed. He sat her down and then sank to his knees settling comfortably between her legs to continue the task of loosening her clothing. When he had unfastened enough buttons, Phillip took the edge of her bodice in his teeth and pulled down revealing her breasts, once more truly grateful that she had never made a habit out of wearing a chemise. Before she could even feel the cold air on her nipple, Phillip took her into his mouth, doing devilish things with his lips and tongue. Phillip heard her moan and felt it vibrate through her chest. Without breaking his attention, he tapped the back of her thigh signaling her to shift her position so that he could fully disrobe her, running his fingers along the back of her thighs and her calves and placing kisses along her body as he did so. 

Phillip had started working his way back up, starting by kissing the inside of her knee, creeping up inch by inch. Eloise looked down to see the hunger flashing in his eyes.

“Wait,” she said, putting her hand on his cheek. Phillip looked up in question. “Before you continue...” Eloise said as the corners of her mouth turned up “you must take off your clothes.”

Phillip’s hands went immediately to his waistcoat. “Happy to oblige,” he said. He flashed that lopsided grin that made Eloise melt and she came to his aid, ridding him of his cravat. Once his shirt was removed and he stood up to toss his boots aside, she undid the fastenings on his breeches. When she had finished, he pulled them off, revealing himself and his desire to her. But before she had a chance to admire him, he was back on his knees. 

“Now,” he said, bringing his lips to the indent at the apex of her chest, “where was I?”

Phillip brought his mouth down to the other breast that he had neglected earlier, teasing her once again with his tongue. Meanwhile, he busied one of his hands by teasing her other breast with his fingers and busied the other by cupping it around one of her buttocks, kneading with ardent desire. Once he could hear and feel her breathing getting more shallow and more desperate, he resumed his migration south. He stopped for a moment to pay homage to the marks on her stomach that she had gotten when she carried their children. As he kissed them he marveled at her. His Eloise. Unbreakable, untameable, and completely, unbelievably remarkable.

When he finally reached the dark curls that surrounded her sex, he looked up at her, and in a forceful whisper, he commanded her to lie back. Eloise gladly obliged and let out a provocative moan as he began to explore her with his lips and his tongue. Phillip eased her legs onto his shoulders and found purchase for his hands on top of her thighs. He could feel his already intense desire growing as her hips bucked and her hand ran through his hair. He loved the taste of her. He found it completely intoxicating. But more than he loved the taste of her, he loved how close he was to her. It was like he was looking into the center of her being and stoking the fire that he knew burned for him. With each whimper that escaped from her lips, he pressed in closer, feeling himself getting harder. He moved his tongue along the folds of her entrance and smiled at the cry that escaped from deep in her throat. He fully intended on bringing her to completion until she tugged on his hair.

“Phillip, please,” she said desperately, “I need you inside me”

That was all Phillip needed to hear. He rose and put his hands under her arms, ready to lay her down and lose himself within her but she put her hands on his chest. 

“I do have one suggestion,” she said, bringing her mouth to his ear and smiling wickedly, “I think you should find it much easier to worship me from the traditional vantage point of a devotee.”

Phillip smiled. Often, when they made love, they ended up in whatever position suited them best at the moment, but he adored when Eloise took charge. He loved the expression on her face when she took what she wanted from him and the way her entire weight fell upon his hips. He loved the way she moved and pushed him in every exquisite direction until they were both overcome with desire. With that prospect in his mind, Phillip had no objections and had himself lying supine on the bed within seconds. Eloise laughed. 

“Eager aren’t we?” she said, crawling towards him.

“For you?” he said, sitting up and touching his lips to hers, “Always.”

Eloise put her hand on his chest, gently pushing him so that his entire back was against the bed. She lifted one leg up, straddling Phillip’s waist. He could feel her wetness against the skin on his abdomen and it drove him absolutely mad. He put his hands on her hips with the intention of guiding her onto him but she pushed his chest in protest. 

“Ah ah ah,” she said in a teasing tone, “I think I would like to stay here for a minute.”

Eloise began grinding her hips against his abdomen, feeling the heat inside her growing as she felt the muscles beneath his skin against her center and her buttocks. If she moved her hips back far enough, she could feel his desperate member against her cleft. She knew she had to take him inside of her lest they both catch fire. 

“Now,” she said hoarsely, bringing his hands back to her hips. With an ease that reminded her of his gentle strength, he lifted her up and guided himself into her center. Eloise made a noise that was not quite a moan, not quite a shriek as he filled her with every wicked inch of himself. She looked into his eyes, this man who could fill not just her body but her soul and she began climbing towards her release. She took his hands from her hips and intertwined his fingers with hers allowing her better leverage. She ground her hips into him embedding him deeper within her. Phillip’s hips began to buck, up and down. He relished the image of her bouncing on top of him, the both of them getting closer and closer to bliss.

Eloise untangled her fingers from Phillip’s and put her hands on his chest as she made her final pushes to completion. Her back arched and another rapturous sound escaped her throat. As Phillip felt her tense around him, he too reached his pinnacle. Eloise continued to grind her hips, stretching out this feeling as long as it would go. She knew that the shockwave of pleasure that he sent through her, emanating from her center and radiating to the tips of her fingers and her toes simply could not be replicated. Some nights, when they were apart, she tried to bring herself to this summit, and although it was nice, it was nothing compared to what Phillip did to her, and she drew it out as long as she possibly could.

Phillip let out a moan as Eloise continued to move on top of him, every muscle in his body tense with the overwhelming pleasure of the moment. He sat up and crushed his lips to hers. He wanted to be connected with her in every way possible at this moment, body to body, mouth to mouth, soul to soul. 

Eloise collapsed on top of Phillip and he wrapped his arms around her, never wanting to let go. “I love you,” he said, pausing to plant a soft kiss on her head “with every ounce of my being, I love you, Eloise”

Eloise rotated her head to look at him, resting her chin on his chest “I love you too.”

They stayed in this position, her relaxing on top of him for what must’ve been an hour, talking about whatever came to their minds. Phillip talked about his pea plants–which he had made some impressive headway on–and Eloise about her latest attempt at embroidery–which she had not made headway on. As they talked Phillip stroked Eloise’s temple with his thumb and lightly curled her hair around his finger, Eloise kissed Phillip’s nose and tapped a gentle rhythm on his chest with her fingers as if she were playing the pianoforte. It was in these moments, these soft, easy moments, that they continued to fall in love with each other, deeper than they ever thought possible. Of course, they loved the passion, they loved the heights that they could bring each other to. But these gentle, effortless moments were what they both lived for. These moments where they both could be completely themselves because they had found a person who loved every part of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finished with this concept for now, but I'm considering writing the story from Micheal and Francesca's point of view so stay tuned, but I'm probably going to stick with Phillip and Eloise for the near future.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story check out my tumblr @ sirphillipcranestanaccount.tumblr.com for casual headcanons and early drafts!


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